Adavire awoke to her head stinging and a ring in her ears. She heard muffled explosions and through her blurry vision, she saw a torso of a demihuman flying through the air along with debris from what looked like a rock that was flung here by a catapult.
Given how quickly the forest was moving past her, whoever was carrying her was running. Around them were several others trying to run from the explosions.
It would seem Marius had his engineers build strong siege weapons to use against the army of demihumans.
It doesn't matter how strong you are, there is always a weapon that can kill you.
Those were the words of Elna when Adavire asked why so many engineers were gathered in the courtyard the other day.
While humans may be weaker than demihumans on average, they have greater minds and inventions that can overcome that weakness.
Hold on—
She just remembered what happened.
Why?
Why did they not want to listen or negotiate? Adavire thought everyone capable of speech can be reasoned with.
They called her an offering for one of the Beast Lords. She heard of these before—demihumans hunt down humans to offer to their leaders in exchange for certain things. She just didn't want to believe it and thought it was discriminative language to fuel hatred towards them.
..
Adavire blanked in and out of consciousness. The heavy vibrations, from boulders flung by catapults, stopped but the ringing was still present, although a bit more bearable for her.
A cold breeze chilled her skin. One of them had taken her coat, leaving her with only her white blouse to cover her upper body and her ripped pants that barely covered her lower body—she couldn't recall why her pants were torn but there was a disgusting sticky sensation around her crotch. She trembled, maybe from the cold or maybe from fear of her fate.
But despite that, she couldn't scream for help. This was a territory overrun with demihumans looking for human blood. At first, she didn't want to believe the stories that went around—they either keep you as cattle to eat or slaves for a breeding farm.
Would anyone extend their hand to an idiot who boasted about saving every life, human or demihuman?
…
Why is it that—in this situation—she recalled something Arnold said to her in the past?
It all started with her confronting him about rumors of him secretly killing servants who disobey him or nobles who cross him. She just couldn't help it as he was playing with lives of those beneath him. It is her duty as someone who stands equal to him, to be the wall that defends them.
He said to her: "Even if I did kill them, so what? Your blinded altruism that seems unable to tell trash from jewels in the heap makes me sick. What's even more laughable is that you genuinely believe even someone who murders another's child in front of them can be saved if they're taken to a temple to pray. Are you fucked in the head, Adavire? Mercy without judgment is nothing more than cruelty wearing a holy face as you're letting the trash plague the jewels."
'…They will all laugh at me if I ever manage to survive this…'
She boldly told him back then that she will prove him wrong with all the lives she will change.
Arnold's reaction to what had transpired was strangely… the most important to her at that moment. In a sea of voices that agreed with her—voices that told her she was right, that her path was noble—
He was the only one who looked at her and said:
"You're wrong."
…
Marius showed no willingness to protect her. Was it wrong of her to reject his advances? Suddenly serving that man just to have his protection didn't seem like a bad idea…
If Adavire is the type of person who would do anything to save as many lives as possible, surely she would also use that dedication to serve whoever saves her? She has never experienced a life-or-death situation before but she knows that once she goes into the beastmen camp, she will never return the same.
Is it messed up to prefer being a whore for this "alpha" over becoming cattle? Perhaps many would not agree to this but she still wanted to live.
Yes, she was stupid. But all the blame can't be placed on her right? The adults didn't help her open her eyes, did they? Duchess Isolde didn't stop her from going on this mission disguised as a field trip program. So, she's to blame, right?
So, why can't the Gods punish Isolde instead…?
As she was lost in her yearning for freedom, Adavire didn't notice it yet but the outpost where one of the Beast Lords was gathered, was right up ahead.
She tried to lift her head, but her body responded slowly, as if reluctant to acknowledge her own will. Through the haze of pain, she could hear voices ahead, deeper and rougher than the men around her, and the smell changed too. Smoke thickened in the air. Animal fat. Iron. Old blood. The scent of a camp that had no interest in cleanliness, only in survival and appetite—as well as carnal desires.
At last, the forest opened into a clearing.
Adavire was dropped to the ground.
The impact sent another bright pulse of pain through her shoulders and spine, and she curled instinctively, drawing in a breath that shuddered on the way in. Dirt clung to her cheek.
"Gh...!" she was lifted by her hair and forced to sit upright.
"Pretty lil' hume, aintcha?" a beast with bad breath licked its mouth while cackling. He then dropped her down when the beasts who brought her, told him that she's an offering for the master.
When she forced her eyes open, she saw first the firelight, then the shape of the camp surrounding her, and finally the throne.
It had been built from bones. The whole thing rose from the earth with a grotesque kind of permanence.
The Beast Lord sat upon it. He looked like a dragon humanoid but belonged to a species of lizardman whose scales are rumored to be as hard as dragonsteel. This is why they were hunted down to near extinction—for the sole purpose of obtaining their scales that can be used for armor.
While not the strongest in terms of physical strength when compared to other demihuman types, their endurance, sharp claws that can rip through concrete, and their armor made them the deadliest.
He did not need to move for the camp to quiet, though that happened anyway. Even the demihumans who lounged nearby, eating, sharpening blades, or arguing in low voices, seemed to settle into some lower state of awareness the moment he shifted his weight. His presence had a physical density to it. It pressed into the space around him, into the bodies of the people before him, into Adavire's own breathing. He looked less like a ruler in the human sense and more like a force that had simply learned to wear a body.
Around the throne, the camp stretched out in crude circles of firelight and shadow. Tents had been thrown up without care for symmetry, weapons leaned against rocks, and carcasses roasted on spits with the easy negligence of a people who had long ago stopped separating violence from daily life. The air smelled of meat and smoke and sweat. It was a place built by those who expected to take rather than keep.
Then Adavire saw the women by the demihuman lord's feet.
There were several of them, kneeling near the foot of the throne, their hands bound in iron and their wrists linked by heavy chains that had been driven through the dirt. They wore the ragged remains of clothing that had once been fine or ordinary depending on where they had come from. Some looked too exhausted to do more than stare ahead. Others trembled visibly, shoulders drawn in, their eyes lowered in a way that suggested not loyalty but an effort to disappear.
A few missed an arm while others had their feet cut off. From a glance, you can tell who was obedient and who attempted to flee.
Adavire's heart sank and her trembling became uncontrollable.
This… was her fate as well.
After an uncomfortable silence and after he was done chewing whatever was in his mouth (she dreads to think it was human meat), the Beast Lord spoke, his voice deep and commanding.
"Rock, huh? I thought you didn't want to join my tribe. State your purpose or are you here to waste my time again." He had a dry and deep voice that suited his reptilian form that was pure armor and muscle.
"W-We brought you a present, l-liege…" the one on the right gestured to Adavire, "A human woman as old as twenty planet cycles—"
"—You Hitis refuse my rule yet you expect me to make deals with you?"
Hitis means nomads not loyal to a clan but chose to serve clans in exchange for food and other benefits. Simply put, they are mercenaries. You would think these foot soldiers weren't that strong but they were able to subdue a 6-stars knight like Adavire quite easily.
"W-We thought she may be to your liking, M-Milord…"
"I have enough women to pleasure me—take her to the farm to breed us strong warriors."
'!'
Like an object that wasn't worth a second glance, Adavire's fate was decided just like that.
She could use this opportunity to break free (the ropes around her wrists aren't that strong) then escape. But who knows how fast these demihumans are if simple runts could subdue her, a 6-stars knight?
"W-Wait, s-she is a strong warrior who was able to put up a fight with our leader, Scabar who was one of your beast guards and Brother Rock! Wouldn't you rather have her have your young!?" fearing their rewards would be disappointing as their "prize" was deemed simple cattle, one tried to convince the Lord.
"Y-Yeah, plus she's still pure! I tasted it meself!"
Adavire shuddered.
…No wonder her panties felt quite damp and her pants were torn.
In demihuman culture, a pure human woman is said to be able to bless them with stronger offspring that can become great warriors. It's not worth it making sense how they think.
But it is undeniably true that Adavire… is a virgin. She had never even touched herself down there.
The beast glanced at Adavire with his red eyes.
He gestured for his soldiers to bring her up to him. Without a way to resist, Adavire was carried helplessly to him.
The beast then made a twirling motion with his finger, prompting the soldiers to lift Adavire upside down, the world spinning around her. he then stood up and… ripped off her pants.
She shut her eyes tightly, hoping whatever she feared would happen, would never come.
The beast buried his nose into her crotch area and inhaled deeply. It felt like bugs crawled over her skin—that's how disgusting it was.
"Ohhh…" the Lizardman's face changed upon tasting her insides, "…I haven't tasted a virgin human in a while so I accept your offer."
Placing Adavire on his lap roughly, he called over one of his soldiers, "Give them a wagon of meat."
The soldier nodded then quickly went into one of the warehouses nearby. He returned with a small wagon filled to the brim with ice. There was so much ice that it made a big heap. But if you look closely, human hands and feet could be seen sticking out.
'Those… Those are…!'
"Gh… Gh…" tears streamed down Adavire's face seeing the face of a child sticking out of the ice blocks. The agony before having his throat ripped off was still on his face. She didn't have the energy to even vomit anymore.
"Ohhh! Thank you, Beast Lord! Human meat is so hard to come by now that they've locked themselves away in their castles and towns!"
The Beast Lord looked towards the gate of his camp, spotting several demihumans waiting outside, "They are…?"
"Ah, our comrades from our camp. The humans managed to build a weapon that could kill dozens of us with one hit so we retreated until another opportunity to attack arises."
"Siege machines… Humans and dwarves are such cowardly people, hiding behind their contraptions."
"Y-You said it, Alpha Razor. What a bunch of cowards." Rock said half-focused on the Beast Lord and salivating at the human meat right in front of them. He seemed to have forgotten about negotiations and only thought about his stomach.
"If that is all you wish to say, get out of my camp. You reek of boar."
"Egh, that's all we could hunt, Beast Lord… T-Thank you for accepting our trade!"
It seems that, in their own way, Demihumans are still capable of having mutual agreements.
Maybe strength is the key…?
Looking at this Lizardkin, he was no doubt the strongest in this camp so the title of "Beast Lord" wasn't being thrown around randomly.
After the trio left, Razor grabbed Adavire's face to force her to look at him, "Hmm, your eyes show planned defiance. I can't have that."
"Ugh!" she was thrown off forcibly. When she tried to get up, Razor, with one of his fingers pointed and claw out, held her down.
"We normally only do this to humes who run away but as I will be needing your strong warrior blood, only your womb will be necessary. As such," he forcibly opened her mouth and took out her tongue, "—You don't need to speak."
As her bloodcurdling screams spread throughout the camp, two other demihum—savage beasts, held down her shoulders, only allowing her head to thrash around.
The Beast Lord then broke one of her feet by the ankle, making a sharp snap resound. Then he used his sharp claws to ripe the bottom portion cleanly off by the skin.
The unimaginable pain made her fade in and out of consciousness.
Why…? I only wanted to help you…
You don't have to be like this… you can still—
(No… something's wrong… why won't they listen…?)
If I could just speak—if I could just—
(They're smiling…)
…Why are they smiling while I suffer…?
(This isn't something I can fix…)
I was… wrong…
No—
I don't want to die—
**
After he was done, Razor called over their shamans to get her condition under control. Then he had his men throw her into the cage closest to the throne, where his future wives were—ranging from daughters from other beastmen tribes to Elves and humans.
Since they've been in there for a few days now as he's not had any chance to rest due to what's going on outside, feces and urine stunk up their cage so his new woman will have to live in that for a while.
After sitting back on his throne and admiring his beautiful wives (slaves), he felt an immense pressure coming towards this outpost. Naturally, he sprung up, a cold sweat running down his back.
If it could be visualized, it looked like a gigantic demon head manifested from pure malice and death. If he did not have a reputation to uphold, Razor wouldn't even think of confronting something that even his instincts screamed at to run away from.
His soldiers probably also felt this as they stood in front of him, their gazes directed at the gate.
Is it one of the Beast Lords? Razor has a shaky relationship with the Tigerkin Alpha. He's the one Razor is most wary of.
'This… doesn't feel like him. Rather, it's a presence far, far greater than his.'
It was like a Death God has decided to pay him a visit.
"…lower your weapons."
Until he can find out what this Death God wants, showing hostility is the height of ignorance and stupidity.
Before long a Lion-like beast on four legs with black fire around its body emerged, pulling a carriage towards the gates.
Could it be… that mount that was giving off that malice? No, it seemed incredibly powerful from a glance but it wasn't showing any hostility despite glaring at them all.
"Oi, is that Lurj on that carriage!?" one pointed out.
Lurj seems to be an acquaintance. But why is a demihuman like them pulling the reigns of such a powerful beast? Furthermore, he's the coach of the carriage…
"Huh? You sure? Ah, he's coming." As he said, Lurj ran over like he was being chased.
He fell to the ground, his head at Razor's feet.
"P-P-Please, Alpha Razor, d-do not offend them! Y-Y-Y-You have n-n-no idea what they're capable of! T-They can wipe us all out, even the Beast Lords!"
"…" Razor silently looked back at the carriage.
That presence he felt from earlier was coming from there without a doubt.
"Huh? What is this guy talking about?"
"His tears won't stop flowing, hahaha!"
"Uh, hey, Alpha Razor doesn't seem to think it's a joke…"
"In fact, doesn't he look scared?"
"Shush! You know he doesn't like being mocked!"
The passengers in the carriage stepped out the next moment.
A young man with dark blue hair and a beautiful mature woman in a black dress with white hair emerged. Despite being twice their size, the demihuman man trembled like a leaf in the wind and continued begging Razor.
He took a glance at the woman next to the young man—and almost retched on the spot.
She was a vampire—the stink of death and suffering lingered around her. Despite looking like a gentle woman in her late twenties or early thirties, there was a disturbing presence about her that he couldn't grasp since she wasn't even showing hostility.
She was the one to look out for.
The demihuman hurriedly raised his head while the two remained standing behind him, "T-These venerable personages have r-requested to meet with you on official business! T-They do not seek to fight!"
He used both arms to exaggeratedly point to the two behind him.
The vampire smiled, a smile that could captivate any heart. Some demihumans even had a tent pitched in this bottomwear.
"What is your business here?" assuming she was the leader due to her overwhelming presence, Razor asked the woman. He also took the moment to glance at her—a large bosom even among all the women he's taken to bed, unblemished porcelain skin and the face of a goddess.
She looked confusedly at him for some reason. As if she's wondering why he spoke to her.
"We came here to tell you to leave." The young man beside her said, interrupting the leader.
The crowd grew quiet.
This is a grave offense to the supreme leader of their tribe. Anyone who dared disrespect him like this had their hands, tongues or even legs cut off and then the leader feasts on it in front of them.
He had a warrior's build but he didn't have the power of death and suffering surrounding him like the vampire. Razor assumed he was her squire or lover.
"—What are your intentions for looking at him like that?" the woman spoke in a cold voice.
When Razor looked at her again, his entire body shuddered.
That overwhelming presence he felt was understating how deeply the power of dread clung to her very form.
She wasn't even releasing any killing intent, merely glaring at Razor coldly—which was enough to turn every cell in his body into stone.
'How strong is this vampire!? I can't even move my hand!'
"You're ruining our meeting." The man remarked with a huff to which the ferocious woman meekly responded.
"S-Sorry…"
Razor couldn't believe his eyes—were his instincts wrong? Is the woman not the strongest? The feeling of dread and that demon manifestation was definitely due to her!
What if… this man is in a plane of existence that Razor wouldn't be able to determine unless the man actually releases his killing intent?
This didn't frighten Razor—even if he was trembling and standing like a statue.
Rather, it boiled his warrior blood.
It wasn't rage; it was curiosity only warriors have towards the other's strength. It's something ordinary people wouldn't understand.
"Human boy." Razor's sharp claws grew longer and he unsheathed his meat cleavers that could crush a wyvern's bones in a single attack.
"Hey, you—" Selia was about to speak up but the young man held up a hand to stop her.
"Face me in a duel… only then will I hear what you have to say."